Just a Flesh Wound
by Kermitfries
Summary: Reid uses. A student sees him. To what ends will this student go to do what he thinks is right? Even if that means death. And murder. And torture. What can the covenant do, and what does the book of damnation say about those who expose the covenant?
1. Restless

A/N: A new idea. I know I've got a lot of stories out there but when I get inspired I can't just not write. I do have my internet back, so hopefully the updates will continue as they had like back in may. Please Review. I need to know whether I should continue the story or not bother. If I get less than ten reviews, I don't think I'll continue.

Summary: I did a story about witch hunters. But is that all witches fear? Don't they fear the masses. What would happen if hysteria occurred again, like back in Salem? What if it weren't just a secret society? What if Reid exposes the covenant (again I suppose…it isn't because he's a fuck up. It's because I 3 him. It'd be fun to do a story where Tyler exposes the covenant…prompt anybody?). And what if the kid who catches Reid isn't as harmless as Reid suspects? There will be no Mary sue in this. Don't even know if Sarah and Kate will be in it. It isn't a love story, there's no romance. Sorry kids. Of course the Oc –- the kid who saw him use -- is going to have a big part, but there isn't anything I can do about that. The evil is generally always a new character and his part is generally big. I am hell-bent on giving each son something to do in this story though – - so it will span for a like thirty chapters probably, I dunno. Depends on what you want.

Warning: Violence. Lots of Ipswich angst. Cussing. Even in narrative…because that's how I write now. I dunno when that happened. Maybe sex, but probably not. This is really not a romance fic in ANY way. There are no relationships (except maybe the ones already established in the move). This isn't slash. A rare thing, evidently, for me. Just Bromance. Not a lot –- on the surface. Because guys aren't like that. And because of that, the fic is rated T. It may change if the content I've got in mind changes but probably not.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Covenant movies or any characters from said movie. All I own is this plot and Matthew Clyde. And the embellished personalities of covenant characters. Because the movie sucked ass on that aspect. And I claim the personalities…..

"Strength is not if you can fight all evil that comes to you, and running away does not necessarily make you a coward. It's walking in the dusk between light and dark, not crossing over either way, it takes true strength and courage to do this…it is too easy to fall either way.

Jerry Grant Blakeney

Reid Garwin was supposed to possess the devil may care attitude. Isn't that what people kept describing him as? So why did those eyes still haunt him? It'd been three weeks. Sure if that kid had really saw what Reid had thought he'd seen, he would have done something by now, right? He would have told somebody, or confronted Reid. Or done something. Why couldn't Reid just forget those eyes, those dark eyes, silently sinister, yet enlightened with realization. He could practically see the wheels turning in the kid's head. Reid huffed a loud grunt and turned over in bed.

Tyler's quiet snores and low breathing momentarily filled the room once more. It was almost rhythmic, the way Tyler slept, curled in a tight ball beneath the heavy blankets yet still managing to shiver from time to 

time, face buried and perfectly slack as he dreamt. They both knew Tyler was plagued by nightmares more often than Caleb was. His just never came true, so the covenant managed to ignore them. But Reid couldn't, because he was always the one that had to wake up Tyler. He was the one that always had to kneel beside him and wait for those terrified, wild eyes to focus on him. He had to wait for Tyler to realize it was just Reid. But even then the boy never relaxed. It was easy for Caleb and Pogue to ignore Tyler's inner turmoil. But Reid was with him all the time. The turmoil locked tightly within Tyler became more and more obvious each day.

But for tonight, it was easy to ignore his troubles, because the bliss of complete blackness wasn't going to last. He was the reason Reid always snuck in at night, not because he was ashamed, but because he didn't want to wake Tyler. It didn't help that Tyler was an unbelievably light sleeper.

Maybe he should have told Tyler about the kid. The kid who had seen everything. He was supposed to tell Tyler everything. Wasn't he? He didn't have a problem telling Tyler about the chicks he bagged. He didn't have a problem complaining to Tyler about…anything. He didn't have a problem lounging around Tyler's house, ribbing him about his nonexistent video game skills. Why hadn't he told Tyler? It couldn't be because he feared Tyler would tell Caleb. This was a problem of the covenant, even if it meant another lecture and that stupid disappointed glare from Caleb; the same glare that still managed to make Reid feel guilt.

He sighed loudly and shifted restless in his bed. It'd been three weeks. That's three weeks his stupid conscience had kept him awake all night and on edge all day. Three weeks. He should be ready to pass the fuck out. Tyler had already commented on his paler, if possible, complexion. He already noticed the dark purple smudges beneath Reid's suddenly duller eyes. His lack of energy in swim practice; of course the couch riding Reid's ass wasn't helping the blonde. The older boy had grown quieter, his mischief seemingly absent. He was suddenly so tired, and stressed out, lately. No fun at all, Tyler had said. He had also said he was worried, and irritated that Caleb and Pogue seemed to either not notice or pretend to not notice the sudden drastic change. He had asked him why. Asked him what had changed, what had happened. Why was Reid different? Reid merely shrugged him off and turned away but he couldn't escape Tyler's curious eyes, always watching him. The boy was annoyingly perceptive. Observant. Made Reid want to punch him.

Reid sighed again and shifted his position. He was actually bored. Not tired. But bored and frustrated and on the verge of calling it quits and getting up to get ready for school. "What the fuck, Reid." The voice was so sudden that Reid actually jumped. When he forced himself to relax, a frown settled squarely on his dried lips. "Quit fucking moving."

"S'not my fault you've got fucking supersonic hearing," Reid hissed. His voice was quiet, raw even. It sounded strained and annoyed and frustrated and every other emotion the boy felt yet wouldn't ever be able to voice. He wanted to pass out, because this constant anxiety was driving him insane. "Go back to sleep."

"You know I won't be able to now," Tyler murmured, though his words were laced thickly with exhaustion. He sounded tired and his eyes felt heavy. His lips barely moved, the sound coming out quiet, slurred. But 

Reid did know sleep wouldn't reclaim him. He'd been a victim of insomnia when they were younger and sleep came to him hard at sometimes too. The nightmares didn't help at all, though. "What's wrong, Reid?"

"I told you it was nothing," Reid said. He wanted his voice to sound harder than it did. He sounded tired, fed up. On the verge of quitting. "Quit asking."

"Fine," Tyler sighed. The sleep had vanished from his voice; he almost sounded annoyed. Was that hurt speared through his words? He hated how easily Reid could talk about stupid shit - useless knowledge nobody really needed to know. But when it came to the stuff that really matters, oh no - Reid had to shut up like a clam. He hated how the older boy always closed in on himself, almost instinctively, whenever he got himself into trouble. He never asked for help. _Stupid Reid._

Tyler promptly turned away and curled in on himself. He wasn't going to fall back to sleep, but it didn't mean he wasn't going to try. _Stupid Reid wakes me up because he can't lay fucking still. Stupid conscience is too heavy, that's what it is. Weighed down by all the guilt of being an ass. And waking up his roommate, only person stupid enough to ever be best friends with him, because he can't lay still. And now he won't fucking talk to me. Because he's an ass. And what the hell am I supposed to do now? I can't sleep and I don't feel like getting up._ A glance at the alarm clock beside his bed and his frown deepened. _Fucking three in the morning. What the fuck? Stupid Reid._

Reid was quiet for a moment, peering into the darkness in Tyler's general direction. "Okay, Tyler. I'm sorry." The words meant nothing. Reid seemed to apologize all the time lately. He'd become a real fuck up, except lately it seemed completely accidental. He actually managed to look sheepish, even guilty when he apologized. "Tyler." Tyler closed his eyes and shrugged deeper into his blanket. "Look I fucking apologized, alright? Quit being such a bitch." Tyler ignored him and bit back the small grin when Reid's irritated growl reached his ears.

"Fuck." The movement was nearly silent, as Reid slid out of his blanket and crossed the room. He tore away Tyler's blanket but the younger boy didn't flinch or jump. He'd anticipated Reid's movement. He'd heard everything. Another perk to the power, Caleb had said - even though he was ascended, and he didn't have this perk. A pain in the ass was more like it. It made sleeping that much harder.

Reid reached forward and physically, roughly, turned Tyler to face him. He pinned him onto his back, but he didn't look as pissed as he had sounded. "You don't have to tell me shit. Go back to sleep." He tried to turn away but Reid wouldn't let him. "You said you weren't forceful." Despite his exhaustion and earlier irritation, Tyler managed to bat his eyelashes at his best friend. "But hey, if you wanna get kinky like that…"

Generally Reid would've cracked an amused smile, but he didn't. He was rubbing off on the younger boy and at times it made him smile. The jokes Tyler would utter in the presence of Caleb was enough to tear laughter from Reid. Especially the look on Caleb's face…But he couldn't right now, not with what he knew he was about to tell Tyler. "You know that kid, Matthew Clyde?" Tyler shrugged, all previous humor gone from his face. Sure, he knew the kid. But he hadn't ever spoken to him before. Reid cleared his throat. Maybe he should try to go about this a different way. His hand had grown clammy and wet on Tyler's arm, 

but the younger boy didn't comment on it. Reid knew he noticed. Tyler noticed everything. "You remember last month, when Caleb Used on you?"

"Yeah." This got a reaction from the boy. His voice sounded harder, stiff. The first time Caleb had ever Used on anyone - besides Reid. Sure, it'd been an accident. Reid had moved too quickly, he had inched too close to Tyler, not that he had meant to. When the younger boy had tried to stop Caleb, he had taken the blast just as much as Reid had. Reid had been thrown back into him and his elbow had caught Tyler in the ribs, breaking a few. And Tyler's body hadn't grown accustomed to the abuse that Reid took with ease. His back was still slightly sore, from hitting the crates at the back of Nicky's. His cuts still hadn't healed completely. He grimaced at times too, when he strained his ribs. He couldn't swim and that put him automatically on the couch's hitlist. He still didn't talk to Caleb, as if he were conversational before. Reid had been the only one to comment on Caleb's misuse of the power –-- he'd sounded more upset that Caleb had hit Tyler than he had been when Caleb had hit him. He hated it when someone touched Tyler like that. He hated seeing the hurt flicker across Tyler' face.

"So, I was pissed, right?" Reid began slowly, tentatively. The boy had been just as pissed at Reid that night, but Reid had tried to make it up to him. Caleb had only apologized. Reid showed remorse. "And since you left kind of abruptly, I walked home." Something changed in Tyler's gaze. It was eight miles from Nicky's to the dorms. Twelve from Nicky's to Reid's parents' home. Tyler had forgotten all about the older boy in his own rage. But Reid was there when he woke up so he had just assumed that he had slipped in after he'd already fallen asleep. "I kind of Used." Tyler couldn't understand why Reid looked so sheepish about his confession. He Used all the time. He shook his head and shrugged in confusion. "That kid Matthew was there. Out in the middle of fucking nowhere. I didn't see him before…before he saw me. I think he saw something, Ty."

Tyler's gaze darkened immediately and his mouth gradually shifted from a slack line to an understanding "O". And then his gaze shifted altogether. It took on the worry that Reid had been harboring for the past month. "Reid," he said, shaking his head disapprovingly. He shifted; quickly pulling himself into a sitting position but Reid quickly pressed a hand against his bare chest and pushed him back down to the bed.

"You're not gonna tell Caleb, right?" He almost sounded like he were pleading. The sound was foreign in Reid's voice. Scary. And he didn't even know why he cared. Caleb should know. They were all in danger.

Tyler blinked. "Of course I'm telling Caleb," he nearly whispered. Reid's eyes narrowed and he sighed loudly. But his hand was still on Tyler's chest, still hold him in place. The pain registered in the back of Tyler's mind. "You can't be serious, Reid. You've just endangered the entire covenant. Hundreds of years. How can you not think about telling Caleb? I don't think you understand the danger you've just put all of us in. Reid --"

Reid sighed loudly again, drowning out Tyler's sentence. He knew it wasn't a good idea. He was just forcing somebody else to worry about what he couldn't stop worrying about. Tyler had enough problems as it was. "Fuck that," he told Tyler in a quiet, stern voice. "I'll handle this on my own. It's just Clyde. Not like he's dangerous or something. He's a fucking nerd. I'll just talk to him tomorrow and tell him –--"

"You haven't talked to him yet?" Tyler asked incredulous. "Jesus Christ, Reid. It's been a month. Who knows what he's thinking now – how twisted his ideas have gotten. What if it's too late to assure him we're not demonic entities hell-bent on taking over the world?" Reid cocked an eyebrow. Wtf? "What if he's already told somebody, Reid?"

"So what?" Reid asked. He sounded amazingly reasonable, even when Tyler was voicing his own concerns. "What's he gonna say - I have magical powers? He doesn't even know about the rest of you. He didn't see any of you Use. And maybe he mistook it for something else. When I hit you…I think I broke something. Like in my arm. So I used a little, to fix whatever it was. But it wasn't that obvious Ty. He was far away, I don't think he could've seen my eyes. It's just that look he gave me..." Reid shivered. He did give him the creeps, the absolute understanding within that gaze. "You know what?" He snapped, even though the younger boy hadn't said anything. "You fucking asked, alright? I was gonna take care of all of this on my own, but you wanted to fucking know. So quit bitching." And with that, Reid pulled away from Tyler and quickly padded across the floor to his bed. He heaved a sigh and disappeared beneath his blanket. The two remained laying in silence for a minute before Reid broke the silence tentatively. "Are you gonna tell Caleb?"

"Not yet," Tyler answered quietly. His voice barely reached Reid's ears. Since he could hear everything, sometimes he forgot to speak up. Reid never seemed to complain about it even though it seemed to annoy Pogue to no end. "Don't fuck this up, Reid."

Reid was quiet for a moment. "I won't," he murmured. "I'll talk to the kid tomorrow. See if he's got anything to say."

"And if he does?" Tyler prompted.

Reid shrugged. "I dunno. I'll wing it."

"Reid…"

Reid felt himself smile. "I'll be a good boy, Ty," he yawned. "Thanks baby boy."

"For what?" Tyler managed. Reid suspected he already knew. He knew a lot more than he ever let on, a fact that annoyed Reid more than anything else. He shrugged. Perhaps everybody was the same. Maybe they all needed appreciation at times. Tyler didn't get enough of that. He stood there, silent before all three sons, allowing them to bitch about their own lives. But who ever listened to Tyler bitch? Who ever needed to? Because Tyler never did. He never complained. _Fucking martyr.  
_

"You know what, Bitch," Reid grunted. "For letting me take care of this myself. First. For not bitching at me, like Caleb would've. For not lecturing me."

Tyler shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. Sure Reid complimented him, but his voice was different. Genuine. "I don't think you need a lecture right now. You know you fucked up, Reid. That's all that matters. This feeling you've got right now. How you've been beating yourself up for the last month. This is 

what will help you more than lectures. Don't fucking forget it. Don't ever do this to us again, Reid. It was an accident, I get that. But if this ever happens again –-"

"It won't," Reid assured him. And with that reassurance he managed to slip into a light, half hearted sleep


	2. Matthew Clyde

_**A/N**__: Slash undertones? Probably. But that's just how I write Tyler and Reid's relationship. I think it's necessary to show that they let all of their shields fall when they're around each other - shields that remain intake when they're with Caleb and Pogue.. They can do whatever without putting up a front. There is also slash undertones in this chapter…But I'm pretty I envision Reid and Tyler as straight in this story?…rare for me, I know…._

_The chapter deals a great deal with Matthew. Sorry, but it's necessary. I'm also trying to divert the story away from Matthew and focus more on Reid and Tyler's reaction to him. Future chapters will feature and star Pogue and Caleb. Don't know where to take the story from here, so feel free to make suggestions…I don't really brainstorm -- but I guess I'll have to wait and see what the muses cook up. I know I said I wanted ten reviews, but a certain reviewer asked me nicely (practically begged…) to update regardless of review number. Every writer knows they write for the response of others. I write because it's necessary for me to do, but it's the reviews that I look forward to. I put my stories online because I want to know what others think. Reviews __**are **_important. 

I was already writing a second chapter and via editing….I decided I liked it and will update it regardless of how few reviews I got from you bums. Don't be lazy. I like this story. I like how I write. But I want to know what you think.

**Warning**: Language. There's no violence or sex though….just cussing and that's only in the first part of the chapter. I cuss vicariously through Reid Garwin….

--

Matthew Clyde was at the top of their senior class. Valedictorian; the only student that had managed to slip past Caleb. Reid suspected he would be bitter, but Caleb didn't look concerned. He didn't seem to mind. He was also one of the few students who even acknowledged the existence of Matthew. Reid sucked in a gulp of air and forced it down his throat before spitting it back out through clenched teeth. Matthew Clyde ate lunch alone, in the corner of the cafeteria, hunched over a text book. No wonder the kid got such high marks. He had no life.

Matthew only looked up from his book when a shadow fell across the pages. He frowned when he realized just who was standing beside his table. Reid knew he probably looked uncomfortable, apprehensively shifting from foot to foot, hands clenching and unclenching around the straps of his book bag. "Can we talk?" He asked. His voice was steady, firm. It didn't sound like a question but Matthew shrugged as if he were offering an answer. Then he nodded at the seat across the table from him and Reid nearly smirked. Of course this loser would want a son of Ipswich to sit with him. Imagine the publicity…

He shrugged out of his book bag and sank heavily into the seat across from Matthew. The boy was staring at him, almost like a predator. Reid managed to fend off the glare threatening to rearrange his face. "Did you see anything?" He asked, his voice defeated, half hearted.

Matthew cocked his head to the side. He looked amused. He wasn't even trying to look confused. **What the fuck was Reid talking about?** That's what this kid was supposed to be asking. He wasn't supposed to know. Reid's frown deepened, engraved in his face. "Yes." The word was a quiet puff of air, smoother than Reid thought the kid was capable of. He sounded slick. Almost cool.

"What?" Reid spluttered. What the fuck was wrong with him? It was just a geek. How could he get such a reaction from him? The truth was, Caleb was right. That's what pissed Reid off. That's what made him worry. Caleb was right every time he bitched; every time he shoved Reid against the wall outside of Nicky's; every time he invited himself over to Reid's dorm just to rib him for Using. Every time he said Reid would expose them all - kill them all. He was fucking right. Reid had just exposed them all. He had been bound to expose them. Just too stupid to stop himself. Too damn eager. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He nearly growled, leaning forward against the table that separated him from Matthew.

"I saw you," Matthew told him quietly with an amused smirk twisting his face in a way Reid hadn't ever seen before. "I saw your arm, Garwin. It was broken in two separate places. From the pressure against your skin. I know the bone broke. It wasn't fractured. I saw your eyes. I know what you did, Garwin. I think I even know what you are."

A puff of air forced itself from Reid's mouth in a sharp gasp. It wasn't audible but Matthew's smile stretched tighter. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Matthew shrugged. "Wanted to see how long it took for your resilience to shatter. You're not who everybody thinks you are, are you Reid?" He didn't like how his name sounded in Matthew's. mouth. "Careless. You care a lot about this. Don't you? It concerns you. I've been watching you. The worry eating away at you. All because of me." The kid smiled at that thought. "I…_affect _you." He chewed on that word. _**Affect**_. And when he spat it out it sounded different; dirty and Reid cringed.

His eyes narrowed at Matthew. "Right," he drawled, quickly regaining his composure. "What are you gonna do about it now? Nobody will believe you. You'd sound like a fucking psycho."

Matthew shrugged. "I won't tell anybody. You're off the hook, Garwin. Now go back to ignoring me."

"Why --"

"Does your friend know?" Matthew interrupted. He nodded toward the table Reid knew the sons of Ipswich usually populated. He followed Matthew's gaze and saw Tyler staring at them. Caleb said something and Tyler glanced over at him. His lips barely moved when he answered. "What you are. What you do."

Reid shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Tyler. "No. Nobody knows. And I'd prefer if you would keep it that way. So what happens now?"

Matthew shrugged again. Reid didn't like how the kid was still staring at Tyler. Tyler was reluctantly engaged in a conversation with Caleb. For a second Reid almost wondered if the boy could hear them. He had extraordinary hearing yeah -- the best, but could he pick out two voices from hundreds? Across the room. Is that, like, even possible? "You stop laughing at my dispense. At everybody's dispense. Quit being such an ass all the time."

Reid laughed. It helped to loosen up. It helped to regain the posture he'd always had before. Mellow. Nonchalant.. Untouchable. "You just asked me to not be who I've always been."

"Always been in public, yeah," Matthew agreed. "But I don't think that's who you really are."

"The fuck you know who I am?" Reid asked.. He'd already lent back in his chair; already crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Matthew with an amused smirk. He didn't know when he had grown so comfortable with the boy.

"I've been watching you," Matthew murmured softly. This forced the contentment from Reid's voice; he knew he grew stiff. His eyes flickered over to Tyler but the boy looked just as stiff. His face was rearranged into an odd expression. He wasn't' listening to Caleb anymore but Caleb didn't seem to notice. He'd already turned to Pogue. "I see how you are when you _think _you're alone. I see you doing your homework, reading books….books that haven't been assigned. I've heard the conversations between the two of you. You almost sound intelligent when you're with him." Reid scoffed. What the fuck was this kid trying to imply? "I've seen you do more than just heal your arm, Reid. You're something magical, aren't you? Like….like a witch. Or a wizard. Warlock. What's the correct terminology, Garwin?" The boy actually sounded excited.

"I don't know," Reid all but spat. "Doesn't matter. Quit stalking me and mind your own damn business." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tyler grow stiffer. He saw the boy shake his head and cover his face with his hand. Reid cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Um…okay. I didn't mean that. Sorry…."

Matthew's smile stretched tightly over his teeth. Reid wanted to smack the amusement right off of the geek's face. "What else do you want, kid? Besides turning me into a pussy?"

Matthew was quiet for a moment, as if he had to really think about the question. Reid figured he'd probably been thinking about his demands since he discovered what Reid could do. "I want to get in good with your friends," he said finally. Reid blinked. "I want them to be _my _friends."

"You mean you want people to think they're your friends," Reid corrected, his voice low and suspended in disbelief. "They'll never go for that. Pogue and Caleb -"

"Caleb and I are already friends," Matthew interrupted. _Yeah, I bet you'd like that_. If it were possible for Caleb to have friends….

"You're on speaking terms," Reid told him slowly. "That does not make you friends. That makes him a nice guy and you a dork. Pogue would never look at you twice and --"

"And Tyler?" Matthew inquired politely. Reid's head snapped to the side so quickly it hurt. He ignored it and the pain disappeared to the back of his mind.

"What about Tyler?" He asked sharply. He glanced over at the youngest son and Matthew followed his gaze. Tyler wasn't watching but Reid would bet his life that the youngest was listening harder than he ever had before. No one was talking to him anymore, but he was staring down at his food. He looked like he was trying to concentrate, his brow furrowed and his face scrunched up in frustration.

"I would like to be friends with Tyler specifically. He's nice." Matthew told Reid quietly. Did this kid know no shame? Reid shook his head quickly. "You can tell him whatever you want, Garwin. But he better start treating me like a friend or else --"

"Or else what?" Reid demanded, rising swiftly to his feet. "You've got no proof…."

Matthew rose too, a great deal more slowly. He stepped forward and leaned in closer to the blonde. "Any x-ray will show that your arm has been broken," Matthew told him quietly. "And it doesn't even matter, Reid. When has mass hysteria ever needed proof? I'm not asking for a lot. I. Just. Want. A. Friend. Tyler Simms. Are you going to comply, or am I going to have to start a witch hunt? Because I can tell you who will burn first."

Matthew's gaze was heated as his eyes held Reid's. Reid frowned darkly and opened his mouth to argue. What gave this kid the right to barter with him? He was Reid Garwin for fuck's sake. Nobody told him what to do. But then a presence appeared beside him and Matthew's face lit up. Reid followed his gaze. Tyler was standing beside him.

"Reid --"

"Tyler," Matthew started abruptly. The look on Tyler's face would have been amusing if Reid wasn't so pissed off at the moment. "I'm Matthew Clyde. I don't know if we've ever spoken before, but Reid and I are now friends. Isn't that right, Reid?"

Reid glared and looked over at Tyler. Whatever Tyler had heard his face didn't show. He looked surprised. Stunned. "Right," Reid mumbled. "Friends." Matthew's expression changed sharply and Reid swallowed hard.

Tyler elbowed him hard in the ribs but Matthew didn't seem to notice, even when Reid gasped loudly. "It's about time Reid started to befriend those few of us with brains still in our heads," he offered. His voice was surprisingly soft as he offered a hand. Matthew accepted his hand a little too eagerly for Reid's liking. _**Fucking Faggot.**_

His grip on Tyler's hand was tight, almost as if he didn't really want to let go of the younger boy. The realization didn't show on Tyler's face. Reid couldn't stop the scowl from crossing his face. Since when did Tyler become such a good actor? "Do you want to hang out?" Matthew ventured tentatively. Reid doubted it was really hesitancy. _**Just all a part of his master plan to deflower baby boy…**_

Tyler shrugged. "Sure. We can play video games or something after school, if you're free." He glanced over at Reid. Reid opened his mouth to say something but then he caught Matthew's gaze. It was evident what the nerd was trying to convey.

"I've got stuff to do," Reid told him, his voice empty. "Chicks to fuck…and since you've just freed up the dorm room…"

Tyler shrugged and turned back to Matthew. Reid couldn't understand why that annoyed him. Tyler didn't ever care what he did with girls - even when he did it in their dorm. But he had just agreed to allow baby boy be alone with Matthew Clyde. The bell rang abruptly and for the first time in his life, Reid actually welcomed class. He didn't have any classes with Matthew and the boy bid the pair farewell before scampering out of the cafeteria. 

Reid trailed Tyler from the lunch room, silent, but when he slid into the seat next to the younger boy, he didn't look happy with their predicament. "What the hell was that?" He hissed, turning to glare at Tyler.

The boy shrugged, his face suddenly confused. "He said he wasn't going to tell," he murmured reasonably. He hadn't heard the entire conversation, even when he concentrated. All he'd gotten was broken statements and an intense headache. But it didn't matter. He'd heard Matthew's demands. All the kid had wanted was a friend. "It's not like he's trying to crucify us. I don't see what the problem is…."

"You heard him, didn't you?" Reid demanded. He glanced up when the students began filtering in and then lowered his voice. "He's a fucking psycho. He fucking wants to be alone with you….I know you're an impressionable, naïve boy, but honestly Tyler….what do you think people do when they're alone….?"

Tyler's eyes narrowed and his gaze sharpened into a glare. He wanted to say something but all he managed was blowing out a puff of air and turned away from Reid. Impressionable? Naïve? Sure, Tyler didn't get shitfaced every night. He didn't satisfy his sexual desire whenever it arises. He hadn't ever been into hardcore drugs and he did accept people with an easy air. But did that really make him naïve or impressionable? It didn't matter. All that mattered was whether or not this was what people; thought of him. Did everyone see him as his own best friend did?

Reid frowned and set his mouth in a firm line as he turned back toward the board in front of them. They both knew Tyler could easily give him the silent treatment. The boy had done it before. They both knew being left alone in silence annoyed Reid to no end. They both knew Reid was bound to come crawling back, but until then, Tyler was going to ignore him. No. He was going to do more than just ignore Reid. He was going to divert his focus. He was going to ignore Reid's problems and his personal affairs. He was going to once again submerge himself in his school work, even though he didn't need to. And furthermore, he was going to submerge himself in Reid's primary problem. Matthew Clyde.

He was going to accept Matthew first in a way that Reid seemed to have failed to accept him. And he was going to allow Matthew the one thing the boy seemed to want; a friend. How hard could that be? The boy didn't seem nearly as off as Reid seemed to think so….maybe he was just misunderstood….maybe Reid was just assuming he was psychotic; jumping to conclusions without proper cause. Either way, Tyler wouldn't ever be completely helpless. He'd always be in control. He had a gift that Matthew didn't. A gift Matthew still failed to conceive. He'd always have a weapon regardless; he would always be safe.

The classes slowly faded. The further he progressed in the day, the easier it was to ignore Reid's agitated glances; the easier it was to turn away from him. He nearly missed the grimace that flickered across Reid's face when the pair exited their last class of the day to find Matthew Clyde waiting beside the door. He wasn't propped against the wall, but standing rigid beside it. Reid's face twisted into a glare he didn't even try to hide and Tyler forced a smile to his face. "Hey."

"Hey," Matthew offered cheerfully. He even grinned at Reid who in turn had to struggle against the growl of disapproval threatening to escape his mouth. "About the --"

"Video games," Tyler finished for him. He shot Reid a look but the blonde remained at his side. "If you're still free --"

"I am," Matthew assured him.

"Cool," Tyler murmured. "We can hang out at my parents' house, for a few hours, until whenever. Here, my trucks out front…" he trailed off, leading Matthew away from Reid and toward the staircase that would take the pair to the first floor and out of the school. Reid made to follow, but a sharp glare from Tyler forced him to stop. That's right, they weren't talking. And he was supposed to have plans.

"So, what's up with you and Reid?" Matthew asked tentatively as he slid into the passenger seat of Tyler's hummer. Tyler sat beside him and busied himself with fastening his seat belt and starting the car.

He shrugged, but he could feel their disagreement weighing heavily on him. "We got in a fight."

"Oh," Matthew murmured. He almost sounded apologetic. Tyler tried to ignore the stare he was receiving from the boy and focused more on the road. He hadn't been home in three months. There had always been reasons for staying away. One of the most prominent reason was because his parents were never home and he hated the empty house. The other reason was more often when his parents were home. He feared which problem would greet him when he returned home. He hadn't ever decided which problem was worst. Isolation or the trauma that was his parents.

"Tyler?"

Tyler visibly jerked, his eye darting from the road to Matthew and then back again. "Huh?"

"You okay?" Matthew asked. He actually did sound concern but Tyler forced himself to be alert. This kid was damn near holding Reid ransom. He couldn't ever really be a friend. "You looked kind of lost in thought….Something wrong?"

Tyler shrugged again, focusing on the road once more. "Reid's my best friend," he murmured. "I know he's a lot of awful things but…he's my best friend. And if anything were to happen to him…or between us….I don't know. Everything would change. It'd be off. Wrong." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. It's just how I get every time we fight." He didn't know why he decided to tell Matthew that. But if Matthew wanted to be his friend, he'd just have to accept Reid. If he wanted Tyler, he had to protect Reid as well. He needed to understand that friendship surpassed secrets; it surpassed insecurities and fear.

Matthew fell quiet, contemplative. His eyes, dark and intelligent, stared fixatedly out the window. But the silence wasn't awkward, it wasn't uncomfortable. Tyler felt no need to fill in the silence and Matthew seemed to agree because he made no effort to break the silence. He remained silent as he followed Tyler into the Simms estate and up the stairs to his rarely used bedroom.

The room wasn't exactly what Matthew would have expected from the boy, though he wasn't sure exactly what he had expected. The room was dark, navy carpet and black bed sheets. Posters decorated the walls but the posters were several years old. Figurines and stickers decorated his desk and shelves. Books lined his shelves but they weren't children's books. They were books Matthew knew the average person would consider difficult. The room was diverse and almost conflicting. Matthew almost immediately realized that it couldn't have been all Tyler's doing. Who else could it have been…except Reid Garwin? Their friendship must've gone back years. Matthew swallowed at the thought. The depth of their friendship, it must be irreplaceable. This was the side of their friendship that Spenser didn't see.

"You guys are really good friends huh?" Matthew had asked the question without meaning to. It's just….this room reeked Reid Garwin and yet Tyler had managed to make it his own too. 

Tyler glanced over his shoulder at Matthew. "He's my best friend," he repeated. His voice didn't sound bitter, despite his current feelings for the boy. "There isn't anything he doesn't know about me. There isn't anything I don't know about him." It was a test, that's what Tyler had meant it to be. He was providing Matthew with an opportunity to hint at Reid's secret, a secret Tyler wasn't supposed to know. Tyler was supposed to be the delusional friend that Reid was lying to. But Matthew only nodded understandably and shifted his gaze to scan further into the room. Huh….he'd passed and he didn't even look any wiser. If Tyler didn't know, he wouldn't have been able to guess what Matthew thought he knew. Maybe he was telling the truth….maybe he was trustworthy….

A TV hung against a bare wall, equipped with an x-box and a box of games. Tyler switched on the light and entered the room with acquired familiarity. Matthew followed him with mute meekness. Tyler had already knelt beside the x-box and began connecting the wires. "Pick a game," he said, glancing briefly over his shoulder before returning to the wires. Matthew knelt at his side and rifled through the box of games. He wasn't a gamer. He didn't play video games, but he wasn't thick enough not to know what was in and what wasn't. He was just surprised at how many games Tyler had that he hadn't ever heard of before. The games were diverse, a mixture of intellectual games and action games. He briefly considered the possibility that maybe some of the games belonged to Reid as well.

Tyler glanced over at Matthew, who seemed unusually contemplative for such a mundane task. "Um….here," he offered, leaning closer to the boy. He didn't notice Matthew's sharp intake of air, or how rigid his body had grown. No, Tyler had continued closer, and picked a game from the box without deliberating on the title. "It's a strategist war game….if that's okay…?"

Matthew nodded, recoiling slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, that's good," he agreed with a sheepish grin. The pair retreated to Tyler's bed. Matthew was a surprisingly quick learner. For a boy who hadn't grown up playing video games, he learned the buttons and controls within minutes. And within the hour, the two boys were joking back and forth, nearly ruthless, as if this were an activity they did every day. It was an odd possibility -- to waste hours playing a video game that provided delicious gore and war strategy. It was odd, how openly they discussed their options during the game -- which course provided their characters with the greatest possibility of not just further life, but profit as well.

Along this course, Tyler realized exactly why Matthew was at the top of their class. Exactly how Matthew had connected all of the shattered pieces of the covenant together so quickly. His mind was something extraordinary; working extraneously, nearly instantaneously. He found himself working for the boy's approval; he found himself smiling when the boy complimented his course of action; when the boy praised his thoughts. It wasn't often, not while he was submerged within the covenant, that he found himself learning from another student in such a way. The way Matthew explained things, his thoughts and his reasoning, it was all so very intellectual. Like a computer; so very calculating. But he explained things to Tyler in a sophisticated yet understandable way. It seemed like he wanted Tyler to learn, to understand and appreciate what he had to offer. It was all so very foreign. It was foreign to have the ability to say whatever he wanted, whatever came to mind, yet never having to explain anything; because Matthew seemed to know everything. Except for the processes of the modern human, of course. He couldn't understand teenagers.

Matthew was perched on his bed, his legs crossed Indian style, his fist curled around the controller as if they belonged there. Tyler was sitting beside him, leaned casually against his head board, his own controller in his lap. They were waiting for the next scene to load. Tyler had already glanced at the clock beside his bed. Four hours, that's how long the two had been in this room, working strenuously through a video game Tyler hadn't ever finished. He had came close once, with Reid at his side. While he was intellectual, Reid was almost ingenious when it came to warfare. Matthew seemed to think so too, because Tyler had recycled some of Reid's theories and received praise.

Matthew hadn't done anything suspicious, and Tyler had been far more than cautious. And now, when his guard had finally crumbled, a sound echoed throughout the empty house; a sound that made Tyler tense. It was the front door slamming. It couldn't be Pogue or Caleb because they hadn't been to his house since the eighth grade. And Reid was still somewhat hesitant, ever since he'd gotten into a fist fight with Tyler's father over something he'd done to Tyler. There was only two people that would come to his house. Joseph Simms and Isabella Simms. His parents.

"Tyler?" Isabella. Tyler forced himself to breathe. "Sweetie, you home?" Her voice echoed through the house, uncertainty tainting the musical chime.

"Wait here," Tyler told Matthew quietly. He knew he was still tense, he knew Matthew probably noticed it. It didn't matter. He had his own problems. Reid's would have to wait for a minute. He shoved the controller onto the bed and left the room, gently closing the door behind him. His mother was standing at the bottom of the staircase, waiting knowingly. She smiled when he appeared at the top of the stairs. "Hey, baby. What brings you back here?"

"Funny," Tyler grunted. "I was gonna ask you that."

Izzy frowned but she made her way up the flight of stairs anyway. It was an old argument. She knew she neglected her son. He knew she felt bad about it. They both knew nothing would ever change. "Baby," she murmured, pulling a reluctant Tyler into a hug. Tyler stood unresponsive for a full minute before gradually responding. He wrapped his arms around his mother and pulled her closer to his chest. "I missed you, baby boy," she murmured against his chest.

"I missed you too, mom," Tyler mumbled grudgingly.

Izzy pulled away, smiling slowly at her son. "Reid locked in your room too?" She asked. If anybody had a soft spot for Reid, it was his mother. He desperately didn't want to know exactly what had arisen from that situation. He didn't know what the relationship between Reid and his mother was, and Reid had managed to mercifully keep the details to himself.

"Um, actually no," Tyler answered. "Reid's an asshole. And I've got a different friend over. A kid named Matt."

"Huh," Izzy sighed. "Do I get to meet your new friend?" She tried to peer past Tyler toward his room. Tyler watched as her expression changed. Matthew was standing in the hall, silently watching the exchange between Tyler and his mother. "Ty, is this Matt?"

The boy turned to face Matthew. The two exchange a glance before Matthew stepped forward and offered his hand. "Hello, Mrs. Simms, I'm Matthew Clyde."

Izzy grasped Matthew's hand and gave it a firm shake. "Please, call me Izzy."

"Izzy," Matthew agreed. The two shared a smile and there was something locked within that smile that didn't sit well with Tyler. His mother did this with every guy he brought over, most severely with Reid, ever since the boy had turned fourteen and grown a great deal more abrasive. Tyler could generally ignore the obvious flirting so why was this any different?

"Lunch?" Izzy asked, turning toward Tyler once more.

Tyler grimaced at his mother's effort. "It's seven o'clock at night, mother," he murmured.

Izzy shrugged, undaunted. "Then how about an dinner. You'd like to stay for dinner, wouldn't you, Matthew?" She didn't pause for his answer but Matthew didn't seem to mind. "And you could invite Reid. I haven't seen that boy in months."

Tyler shook his head. "We're not talking, mom," he told her tersely.

It was Izzy's turn to grimace. "The two of you playing that silent treatment again? They're like kids when their feelings get hurt," she told Matthew conversationally. "But boy does it take forever to hurt their feelings. The two of them are as tough as nails and as sharp as knives. What'd he do this time, sweetie?"

"Nothing," Tyler told her just as stiffly. "Doesn't matter. I'm sleeping here tonight."

Izzy nodded understandingly. "Yeah, me too." And then her face lit up as she turned to Matthew once more. "Would you like to stay too, Matthew?"

"Mom," Tyler said in a warning voice. 

"No, that's alright," Matthew agreed. "I've got a dorm, I'm good.' Izzy nodded, but she didn't look as happy. "You're father gets home Friday." Four days, that's what she was telling him. She was warning him because she knew his and Reid's fights would span days, weeks. And all he had was four days before he had to find another place to stay. "How about the pair of you go back to doing whatever it was you were doing, and I'll make us something to eat? Okay, kiddo?"

Tyler glanced over at Matthew before looking at his mother. "Yeah, okay."

She pulled him into another hug, this one not as fervent as their first, before scampering off down the stairs and toward the kitchen. Tyler glanced toward Matthew again, but the boy wasn't watching his mother's departure.. He was watching Tyler. 


	3. The Reid Garwin of the movies

**Warning**: Almost sex. Bad language. Violence. Hints of not quite consensual sex if you squint really hard. Reid's POV.

Her lips were soft, fervently working against mine. Her hands had already shoved up my shirt and I made note that it would probably wrinkle. I would have unbuttoned it but she was so damn persistent, slapping away my hands and scouring my stomach like it were some fucking prize. Usually I'm flattered. I'm not ashamed. I like the noises chicks make with their mouths, universal sounds of approval. Her hand's already shoved past my pants, my shorts. You see, this is my type of girl. She's easy but not desperate. Nobody likes a slut, even I have standards. We want Pam Anderson, not Courtney Love. And she knows exactly how to please someone -- how to please me. She knows when to shut the fuck up; she knows to not ask questions. This is the girl I came to when I wanted to forget about the covenant, and Caleb. She didn't ask about the bruises anymore, she didn't bother looking concerned when she prodded my stomach or back too hard and I winced.

Her hand's soft but firm. I'm fucking hard under it. I am one hundred percent immerged in this act, the act I live for, my entire existence. And then his face appears at the front of my mind. Fucking Tyler Simms. I groan and feel her smile around the skin in her mouth. This bitch is a biter. But that also means pain turns her on. That's why I keep coming back to her. She doesn't boast about our fuckcapades, and I can fuck her however hard I want to. She'd never complain.

Her hand's working furiously on me. Every time the pressure begins to rise even in the slightest, I see him and the pressure fucking disappears. Growling, I pull away from her. Dana, that's her name. Confusion twists her face into something ugly. "What?" She demands.

"I can't do this right now," I admit in a shamed mumble.

Dana rolls her eyes and presses herself closer to me. I can feel her hand tighten. She's not trying to be erotic anymore. She's trying to fucking hurt me and I grimace, more so at her attempt rather than the pain she actually causes. She smiles. Fucking bitch. "Don't be a gentleman, Reid. Everybody knows you're not," she whispers into my ear. Her teeth scrape against my earlobe, too hard to be sexual.

"I'm not," I assure her, gently extracting her hand from my pants and pushing her away. While she gawks, I button my pants and pull down my shirt. That shit is wrinkled and I frown. "I can't do this right now," I repeat and reach for the door. Yeah, that room is crowded as fuck. I don't even have to move to reach the door.

Her hand closes around my wrist. She isn't strong, just a chick, I could've pulled away, but I don't. I let her touch me. I've always let her touch me. "Why not?" She asks insistently. "I'm willing to fuck you, are you really so vain that you're just gonna walk away?"

I want to smirk but I can't. I'm fucking pissed. I want to fuck this bitch so hard she won't be able to walk for weeks. But I can't get off with Tyler's face in my head. "Yes," I murmur instead and pull open the door. I don't close the door. I leave it open and her exposed. Her skirt is bunched up around her waist, her shirt unbuttoned and her chest bare. She looks beautiful.

I don't look back, even though I want to. I want to burn her image into my mind and see her every time I close my eyes. Instead, I force myself to stare straight ahead as I angrily march up the five flights of stairs, silently wishing Tyler's in the dorm room just so I can punch him. He isn't. Maybe pissed is quite possibly an understatement. Tyler isn't coming back, not until he forgives me. I'm getting tired of this shit. I know it takes a lot for him to get pissed. I can rib him for weeks and unless it's over the right subject, he doesn't give a shit. I've learned to steer clear of those right subjects though, so I must've done more than I thought for him to return home like that.

I sigh loudly and collapse onto my bed. I'm not tired but I close my eyes anyway. I'm fucking Reid Garwin. I'm not supposed to have a conscience, not on this kind of scale. I mean, I don't wanna go around murdering little puppies and dissecting frogs and shit. But I haven't killed anybody - ergo, I should still be the asshole. Yeah, I heard Tyler use that word in a sentence once. He was talking about my asshole too.

"Reid." Ugh. That fucking voice. That's what my nightmares are. No pictures. Just his voice. It doesn't even need words. Just the sound. My eyes snap open and I groan louder than necessary, like maybe I didn't already know it was Caleb. "Didn't you hear me knocking?" I wish I had -- just so I could knowingly ignore his ass.

"No. I didn't fucking hear you knocking." I snap, forcing myself up and away from my tempting bed and the inevitable bliss that will always be sleep. I rise to my feet because I don't feel comfortable lying down with Caleb so close to me. "What do you want, Danvers? Can't you see I was in the middle of 'me time'?" I wonder if he notices I only call him Danvers when we're alone. I wonder if he notices that that's my half assed attempt at putting distance between us.

Caleb frowns but he doesn't take the bait. Big man. "Have you seen this?" He asks, shoving a newspaper into my hands. Of course I haven't seen the paper. I don't care enough to pay attention to the news. But the image in the paper, the front page of the Pantagraph, is gruesome enough to draw and hold my attention. It's a body, except the body is blackened and bloody. It'd been burned. The homemade stake was still lodged in the ground in the back of the picture. I glance up from the paper to Caleb's edgy gaze. He already suspects. "That's Abigail Williams." I shrug. Who the fuck is that anyway? "She was that weird kid that always wore black and cursed the bible every chance she got. She was burned at the stake, Reid."

I shrug again. "She looked like a witch to me…"

Caleb sighs irritably and snatches the paper back. Ouch. Paper cut. He holds the paper high, right in my face, forcing my gaze back to her charcoaled body. "She was burned at the stake, Reid," he repeats. "She wasn't a witch but that doesn't matter. What matters is that somebody, somebody in town, believed she was a witch enough to kill her for it. She was burned at the stake, Reid." Jeez, as if I hadn't heard him the first two times.

"I got it," I snap. Scanning the paper, it's painfully obvious that nobody knows who did it. There are no leads, no evidence, even though the body and the murder weapon are there in plain sight. "What am I supposed to do about it?"

"If this is what they do to people they suspect are witches," Caleb begins in a deliberately slow voice. "What do you think they'll do when they find the real witches?"

"Doesn't matter," I snap. Because I've already taken care of it… "They can't touch us. And even if they could, they won't ever suspect us, Caleb. We're not exactly ideal witches, are we? We don't dress in black, trying to turn assholes into frogs." Caleb growls and I recoil. You see, most leaders are cool, calm and collected. Only Caleb isn't. He hides it well, though. Only I see him when he isn't. I alone know how hard he can hit when I piss him off far enough. I know how ruthless our fearless leader really is. How sadistic and twisted his 'punishments' can really get. "It doesn't even matter," I continue. He saw my flinch. "Shouldn't you be more concerned about the innocent that died because of this psycho fulfilling God's will?"

He doesn't know it yet, but he's itching for a fight. His jaw locks and his fists clench that much tighter. "I don't even know why I bother telling you anything." His voice is soft again. Disturbingly calm. I know that voice. It means I'd just pushed him over that cliff of control and now he is slowly sinking. But he isn't thrashing or anything. He doesn't even really want to be saved. It was painfully obvious that he enjoyed the release that came with drowning. "Oh yeah, now I remember -- what did you do?"

The question is just a growl. An accusation. Figures. But he lurched forward and I backed up. "What?" I cough. Great. Way to be Tyler. I shake my head, forcing my face into a practiced stance of confusion and anger. "I haven't done anything." Other than expose my Power to a complete dweeb hell bent on extracting revenge just because I'm prettier than him. And that pathetic attempt at sex in the custodian closet with the hottest chick in school, the only girl who knows how big a dick you really are. I was still hard. And destroying my relationship with my only friend. Huh… "What've you heard," I decide instead.

Caleb waves the newspaper in my face again. The corpse stares back at me, but her eyes are dried out and hanging half out her burnt skull. The white of her eyes shine brightly against the black of her face. I can't put skin on that face. I can't remember how she looked. "There hasn't been an execution in Ipswich in three hundred years, Reid. Obviously one of us did something. And I blame you."

Jeez. What a dick. "But I didn't do anything." I know, I should feel worst -- angry, pissed all the way off. But I can't muster the energy to project something I don't really feel. Instead, I sound calm, almost bored. I am bored. With this entire conversation. He always blames me. I wish I could just fast forward all the talking and get to the part where he punches me. Because eventually I go numb and his words disappear.

"I blame you," he repeats. Even in the midst of my supposed anger, I can't even blame him. When it comes to the Power, Pogue is a total wimp. Ironic, I suppose, since he embraces all things manly. And Tyler only Uses because he can. He used to Use all the time, it's like how chicks only eat when they're with other chicks. Tyler only Used when he was with me. I know he wanted me to view him in the same light that I viewed the Power. But I couldn't. It's like comparing your best friend to the coolest, slickest, hottest roller coaster in existence. It's something I've learned to not do. Because I already know which will win. Not only will the roller coaster win, but so will the Power. He's gotten a bit of a better handle on his Power now - he doesn't Use anymore to impress me. But when he does, he can get creative with it. Except his Use is always grounded in logic, a thing I never could understand. Because what about magic is ever logical? What a nerd, right?

But anyway. I can't blame Caleb, because out of all of us, even I know I'm bound to expose the covenant. It's inevitable. Destiny. What I want to know is because it's destiny, does that mean I'm still accountable? Like, can I even attempt to change what has always been? Should I even bother? Or have the fates already spun and cut my thread in life? Doesn't really matter, though, does it? Because Caleb has already blamed me. It's like Odin. Except he isn't all knowing and he sure as hell isn't all seeing. And he doesn't seem to give me anything profitable. He just keeps taking these things from me.

The first time he hit me, I was pissed. But as the confrontations grew more common, like every week, I stopped fighting. I used to argue with him daily, but now I don't even speak out against his authority. And in the future, I won't only not speak out against, but I won't disobey him. He's taking this part of me that Odin never took from any of his people, even that ass Loki. It's supposed to be an important part of me, the heart of the machine, and I know I should, but I'm not sure I can force myself to trust him with that part. I don't know if he'll protect it or crush it in the palm of his hand just because he can. His power scares me. How rapidly he's changing terrifies me because he isn't soft anymore. He isn't the Caleb the others used to know. He's hard as rock and sharp as nails and every time I try to reach for him he cuts me just to assert his command.

Can a good guy really be bad without being a bad guy? That's like breaking a rule, right? The good guy has to be good. Unless he's like an antihero. But Caleb isn't supposed to be the antihero. I am. He's fucking everything up.

But whatever. Do you really think Matthew Clyde is capable of burning a chick? All by his lonesome? I don't know him, and that single fact makes me more uneasy than I thought it would. Because I'd just left baby boy alone with a boy who quite possibly had already burned a supposed witch. But he's a nerd - is he really all that strong? And even then, isn't he supposed to be smart? If he wanted to kill witches, wouldn't he had tried that shit on me? Unless he's trying something else on me. But Tyler's safe. Human. And what's better is -- he's got power in a way Matthew doesn't even know.

"Reid." Caleb shoves me hard and I stumble back because I'd stopped paying attention to him. Caleb doesn't like being ignored. "Just tell me what you did. I won't be mad."

I scoff. No, I'd heard that before. The first time Caleb had broken a few of my ribs. He almost broke something else when he realized that he couldn't heal my ribs. Evidently the Power doesn't allow us to heal power induced injuries. But that's okay, because there's other ways to break bones. "I haven't done anything," I murmur. "But when I do, I'll be sure to tell you first."

"Reid." His voice is back to warning. I wish he'd make up his fucking mind.

"No," I snap. "You know what? I've had a real shitty day," I say, turning away from him and pacing the few feet to the door. "I'm not in the mood for your PMS. So get out." I swing open the door harder than necessary in my momentary bout of sudden anger and turn to glare at Caleb.

He takes a step closer. It's supposed to be intimidating. I don't know when our relationship changed so drastically. It was way before he ever hit me. Before the physical violence, there was only ridicule that always came when we were alone. It all came after we'd turned thirteen. That's when he changed. That's when we all changed. Stopped being who we'd always been, and started surprising each other. But so what? We're who we are now. What's it matter who we were when we were kids? You're supposed to grow up. Another rule. That's kind of the idea of life. Most of us improved, myself included. But Caleb didn't. I liked him when we were younger. We were friends. He cared.

His arm shoots out past me and shoves the door close. I don't stop him. I don't stop him as his other hand presses against my chest, even when his fingers touch bare skin. He pauses before applying pressure. I don't even fight as he presses me back against the door, or as he continues to walk forward, even when I can't back up anymore. I hate it when he gets like this. I can't decide how I feel about any of this -- our whole situation. I don't know how to feel about his touches, or what they do to me. I hate it when he presses his lips against my ear and whispers things, stupid words that never last. Broken apologies in short minutes of remorse.

"No, Cay," I try, lifting a hand to press against his chest but he bats it away. I let him. I'm acting like the bitch and I hate it.

"Someone saw, didn't they?" His voice is quiet, calm, but I manage to doubt it. "You're not addicted, Reid," he continues, his breath ghosting across my cheek, his lips centimeters from my ear. I shut my eyes tightly. Maybe he'll go away. "I know that. Just tell me. I promise I won't be mad. I just need to know, to be ready incase something happens. We all need to be ready for whatever is out there, Reid. So if you know something --"

"No." It's just a gasp. A pathetic gasp blackened and loaded with ill conceived desire. "I don't believe you." He stiffens against me. His eyes darken and a cruel smirk lights up his face. His eyes shift slightly, dropping down before returning to mine.

"But you want to," he whispers sweetly. I do. But that doesn't fucking matter. I shake my head but he ignores it. He presses harder against me, slight pressure against what I know he must have seen. I'm still hard from Dana. He likes this. The power, the control, that goes with sex. He likes knowing I can't get off unless he lets me. Even I know he likes watching me try to ignore him, growling in defeat as I cum. It always ends the same. His knee applies more pressure and I try to flinch away but there's nowhere else to go.

"Caleb." My voice sounds thick. "Don't -"

"Shhh," he silences me. I swallow hard. He presses harder against me, deliberately and I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. "Don't be stubborn, Reid," he murmurs, his mouth closer to my face than I'd last figured. "Just give me his name. And I won't do any of this. I'll leave you alone, I promise. Just tell me."

"I don't trust you," I tell him instead, my jaw locking painfully tight, my voice raw. "You're not thinking clearly, Caleb."

His fist shoots out and strikes the door hard. I flinch and the door trembles. "You're endangering the whole covenant," he hisses. His breath smells minty fresh. In the back of my mind, I know I want to taste it. Not his toothpaste, or his gum, but him. I want to taste it on his tongue.

"I know," I whisper back. "But I'm also protecting an innocent, Caleb. He hasn't done anything wrong _yet_."

His fist connects with the door again. "He burned a girl to death," he shouts.

"You don't know that," I shout back. He is really beginning to piss me off. This isn't how it's supposed to be. He's supposed to shut the fuck up and listen to me. He's supposed to accept my choice and wait until Matthew fucked up and proved his own guilt. Where the fuck is his leader quality? "I don't think it was him," I add, my voice barely above a whisper. Caleb opens his mouth to argue. That's all he ever does anymore. "I trust him!" Huh. That's a weird thought. Because I don't fucking trust Matthew. He's a fucking snake. I fear what will happen when I stop watching him. And yet I know I'm not lying, which confuses the hell out of me.

"Reid." Just a growl, a warning I don't notice. The bastard punches me. I should have stumbled, but his hand still presses hard against my chest. He punches me again and again and again before I can even contemplate fighting back. He punches me in the stomach and I instinctively double over. A knee to the face drops me to my knees and turns my vision black for a few seconds. "You know I just want a name, Reid." Yes, I know. He buries a fist in my hair and pulls my head up. Blood is beginning to stain the wooden floor. "Let me take care of the problem, Reid." He's already started spitting my name out like it's a curse. I tongue my cheek and grimace. I'd bit through it. It'll need stitches. Because I can't heal and Caleb's an ass -- he only heals the things that show -- the things that can't be explained away. And Tyler…well obviously he isn't an option. "Goddamnit." It's like he's read my mind.

Caleb's fist tightens in my hair. "You'll kill him." I hadn't really considered that possibility but even as I say it, I know it's true. Caleb would kill Matthew because Matthew is annoying. He's a pompous asshole who won't deny what he knows. And in approaching him, Caleb will expose something I'd managed to keep hidden. The everybody else. I don't fucking care. Matthew isn't going to die until he makes a move. And then what -- what will I do? I can't seriously kill the dork. Well, I don't know what comes next. It doesn't matter, because it isn't going to come to that. I'll keep him to myself -- and Tyler. He'll be safe with us.

Caleb slowly eases himself to his knees, taking his sweet time. "I won't," he promises.

"Liar," I hiss. The throbbing in my head is rapidly intensifying. I choke on the blood clogging my throat.

"I'll hurt you," he promises. How rare it really is -- for him to tell the truth.

"I know." But it doesn't matter. Because Matthew Clyde has failed to do anything substantially wrong. He didn't burn that girl. He couldn't have. What the fuck? How could I know that? Hm. I don't know. But I've got a way to find out if what I think is true. This plan doesn't involve Tyler. Or Caleb. This time I won't involve any of them. I'll take care of it on my own.


	4. Robin to your Batman

_A/N: This chapter isn't up to my regular standard. I'm sorry. And it seems a little disconnected in my head. But please review -- and tell me what you think. Ugh I feel like such a slacker because I have a depressingly one track mind. So when I get into a story I do it for a few chapters before I can get into a different story. It didn't used to be like that -- I used to update all my stories at the same time. Right now, it's this story, don't care and Malleus malificarum. I apologize. And! I am currently working hard on a work in progress that I am revising to death because I want to publish a book. Big dreams, I know. It's the best writing I've ever done. And that's just the first chapter. And there's no violence or sex in that chapter. Like wow…but anyways, read on -- I give to you yet another facet of Reid's surprisingly complicated personality. _

_Because I like my boys complex…._

_And emo at heart._

_PS - I actually typed up half a draft of this chapter, except instead of Tyler, it had Pogue (and obviously a different conversation). Because I'm a bitch and he hasn't been in this story yet. I decided that it had to go back to the beginning for reconciliation, and that's why I went with Tyler. I'm beating their homoerotic friendship to death, I know. But as a challenge to me, the next chapter will have Pogue doing some Pogue-ish ^_^ You can request Pogue-ish things if you want, it'll help me a lot. Because I can't get inside of his fictional little head and it annoys me…_

_---_

_**I know I shouldn't love you**_

_**But I want to**_

_His fingers danced across the guitar strings, graceful if only for a moment. It'd been months since he'd even thought about playing, but his fingers glided through the tired routine he'd perfected years ago. A simpler time when all that mattered was music and good music, not that cheesy heavy metal gone commercial music. And Certainly not power. Before he'd had that first taste, before all of his energy was redirected. When he was content with being second rate. Before Caleb had ever…_

_He leaned back against the wall, letting his eye slip closed. He was tired but it didn't matter. He didn't have to look down anymore. He could see it all in his head. The notes, the words that he failed to sing. Silence. But it was enough._

_He tongued the cut that split his bottom lip in half. It was deep but it'd already started the scabbing process. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, his legs hurt. He hadn't bothered showering or changing. The blood caked his clothes but he'd already learned to ignore it. He ignored it all. And with his eyes closed, concentrating harder on breathing normal than the notes, he managed to ignore the pain that echoed across his forehead and forced a grimace from him._

_He licked his lips again. His tooth hurt and he wondered if it was because of how many times Caleb had punched him in the jaw. A jaw that was now swollen and purple. The pain encompassed his jaw and seared up his cheek. The pain was separate from his headache, from the choking pain closing around his heart that made his chest hurt every time he struggled for a new breath of air. His fingers stuttered, if only briefly, against the guitar strings. The song broke but Reid ignored it. Everything was broken now. He could feel it. It felt different. Dirty and dark. It hurt and he swallowed hard. Everything was so fucking broken and the blood was on Caleb's hands. But Reid knew it stained his own skin too._

_The song resumed._

"_Hey." The voice was quiet, restrained. Reid's head snapped up but the song didn't falter. "You sound good." The compliment was half hearted. Tyler turned away and gently closed the door. He crossed the dorm in silence and eased himself down onto his own bed. He took in Reid's battered appearance in silence. "You don't usually sound so dark."_

_Reid blinked. Right. He was talking about the song. __**When did the song stray from the notes in his head? **__"Keep mixing colors together and the only thing you're left with is black." He sounded dead, even Reid noticed that. His fingers were numb but the dull ache didn't even compare to the other taunting pains viciously stabbing at his body._

"_What's that supposed to mean?" Tyler pressed, leaning forward. His elbows, suddenly bony, dug into his knees. His eyes narrowed as he took in his best friend's appearance again. His eyes were dark, pale, glazed. He didn't answer. "Reid?"_

"_I don't know," Reid drawled, dragging his fingers across the taunt strings. The notes were merging together into something he didn't recognize. He didn't care anymore. "I'm tired, Tyler."_

_Tyler had no idea where his best friend was going with this. It was starting to scare him. "What happened, Reid?" He rose slowly to his feet. "Who was it this time?"_

_Reid shrugged tiredly. "It doesn't matter anymore."_

"_What happened, Reid?" Tyler repeated, kneeling in front of the blonde. He reached forward, covered Reid's hand with his own, and abruptly threw the room into silence once more. "Tell me what happened."_

_Reid frowned, staring down at the guitar clenched in his hands. "Is he a freaky stalker?"_

_Tyler's frown matched the one carved into the blonde's face across from him. Matt. Is Matthew suspicious. "No," he murmured. "He's lonely. The perfect outsider's story. Smart yet completely unappealing because nobody cares about what's inside of your body anymore.. And he wouldn't be suspicious if…"_

"_If what?" Reid mumbled, forcing his dark eyes away from the guitar. He forced himself to look into Tyler's anxious gaze. Only he would have been able to catch the conflict caught awkwardly within those eyes. Only he would be able to recognize and identify it. Tyler liked Matthew. That alone broke Reid's heart._

"_He keeps watching me," Tyler mumbled, abruptly breaking Reid's intense gaze. "I kept catching him staring at me. Not just staring, really….more like watching."_

"_Fucking creeper," Reid snickered. Tyler flashed him a grin too. And just like that, the ice melted. "You'd tell me if he…did anything fucked up to you right?"_

"_Yes, mother," Tyler groaned. "I'll tell you, alright?"_

_Reid smiled. It wasn't a smirk, but Tyler didn't seem to notice. "I think Caleb might be onto us." Understatement of the century. If Reid was submerged in something, anything, Caleb knew that Tyler would be knee deep in Reid Garwin's shit too._

"_What do you mean?" Tyler asked. He rose to his feet and collapsed onto the bed beside Reid, who busied himself briefly with setting his guitar aside and pulling his knees up to his chest, a surprisingly childish move for the blonde. "Caleb doesn't ---"_

_Reid reached for the newspaper that he'd tossed onto the bed after Caleb had left. Tyler noticed the bloody finger prints but he didn't say anything. "He thinks I did something. He thinks I exposed us. And this is what happened."_

_Tyler's eyes quickly scanned the paper and he frowned. "Matthew wouldn't've done this," he decided. He wasn't sure, and that's what bothered him. He'd spent one day with the boy. He didn't know shit. But he did know one thing. Matthew was thorough. He was clean. He was complex and if he were to kill a witch, Tyler knew he would burn her at the stake. Because it was symbolic. Beautifully symbolic. But the crime scene looked too dirty, too grim. Matthew was too clean. And Tyler wanted to believe that._

"_I know," Reid sighed. He didn't sound nearly as unsure as Tyler felt. He sounded confident. Tyler didn't know that Reid had already made up his mind, that he'd already defended the geek more than once with Caleb. The belief he wasn't sure he even supported was already seared into his brain. "That's why I didn't tell Caleb anything." Tyler released a mouthful of air he didn't know he'd been holding. And why had he? This wasn't his mess. He hadn't exposed them. He hadn't been exposed at all. Why was the danger suffocating him just as much as it was killing Reid? "But that doesn't simplify anything, Ty. That means that you've got a fucking creeper watching you, which means you can't Use and I can't Use around you. And the others can't Use around you."_

"_It also means there's somebody else out there killing people they believe to be witches," Tyler mumbled in conclusion. It was a silent understanding. They both knew how much of a trial it would be for Reid to simply not Use in front of Tyler. He hadn't treated his Power like a secret…ever… "But Matthew ----"_

_Reid shook his head quickly. "I'll talk to him." Talk wasn't exactly the word he had in mind. Interrogate was more like it. He still had that other part of his deal to hold up. The 'quit being such an ass' side. This boy sure was asking the world of him and Reid didn't want to find out if he could really give it up just like that._

_Tyler nodded. That didn't help him breathe any easier. "He's too smart, Reid. He wouldn't kill somebody just because they dress different and insult the bible. Especially not after he saw what you can do. You're not different." Tyler caught himself and his eyes widened slightly. "I mean, I'm not calling you a conformist, or bland. I didn't mean to imply that you were like everybody --"_

"_Baby boy," Reid interrupted. He sounded amused and Tyler frowned. He hated how Reid always smiled and let him finish making a fool of himself before ever saying anything. "I'm a man. You can't hurt my feelings." To prove his point further, he flashed Tyler a grin and elbowed him hard in the arm. They both grimaced in pain. "Forget about me. What you need to worry about is the murderer. If it wasn't him then who could it be?"_

"_Maybe you can ask Matthew," Tyler offered. The look Reid gave him was enough to force an uncomfortable laugh from him. "You don't think he did it, Reid. And neither do I. But he's at the top of our class. __Smarter than Caleb__. If you ask him, he'll know your motives. He'll think you were insulted, or afraid -- you'd want the killer to be caught. If he really wants to be friends, he'll do this for us."_

"_I don't want to work with him, Tyler." That one comment conveyed too many emotions for Tyler to decode. It wasn't like Reid to reveal so much in one sentence._

"_Okay," he mumbled, looking away. "You don't have to. We can do this on our own then."_

"_I'm sorry." The words sounded weird in Reid's voice. Tyler didn't know how often those words had passed his lips but he was sure it was extremely rare. Because Reid never apologized for anything, except for that one time he's accidentally shoved Tyler down the stairs, during a confrontation with Aaron Abbot, and broke a few of his ribs. He couldn't heal the younger boy, and although his eyes were squeezed shut in pain as he remained hunched over on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, Tyler wouldn't ever forget that look Reid had given him, as he repeated that one word ten thousand times more than necessary, in a surprisingly shaky voice. Tyler didn't know how often Caleb had torn those words from the blonde and left his throat raw. Caleb was the reason he never apologized. "You won't tell Caleb?"_

_The question forced Tyler's sharp gaze back to Reid's paler eyes. "No," he muttered. Of course he wouldn't tell. He had learned to stop going to Caleb when Reid fucked up. That first time that he had walked in on Caleb __**punishing **__Reid…the look Reid had give him when the pair noticed their audience…that look alone had managed to haunt Tyler for years. If that was how Caleb punished Reid…well he just didn't have that right. He was their leader, but he wasn't their father. He didn't have the right to control them._

"_You're not a fuck up, Reid," Tyler told him, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. He didn't know how, but he was sure that Reid's current physical and mental state was Caleb's fault. "You're not immature, Reid. You aren't….you aren't any of those things that Caleb keeps calling you. He doesn't know you. He doesn't know shit."_

_Reid shrugged off Tyler's sentiments. The younger son knew how uncomfortable he was making the blonde. "We've known each other for --"_

"_Doesn't matter," Tyler interrupted. "You can know a person for years without ever seeing them. And I don't want that, Reid. I've never wanted what Caleb has. And I don't want what Pogue has. I don't want what they have together, that friendship, their relationship. It's a pile of lies. I like what we have." He paused, slightly appalled at that particular statement. He sounded like a faggot. "I know you. And Caleb won't ever have that knowledge. He won't ever know you." __**He won't ever know that classical music helps you concentrate, or that you can play piano and violin. He won't ever know that you know more about science than I do and that I don't have to talk stupid to you because you're not stupid. He won't know that you hum Metallica when you get nervous, or that you can't stand Grape jelly. He won't ever see that shine in the back of your eyes when you turn serious, not angry, but serious…**_

"_But Caleb --"_

"_Knows how to hurt you," Tyler interrupted again. Reid frowned at the intrusion. Tyler didn't admit that he too knew how to hurt the blonde. "He doesn't know how to fix you." __**Like I do. **__"All he can do with his knowledge is wreck destruction wherever he goes. He won't help shit. So quit being so fucking emo." Tyler flashed Reid a smile that somehow managed to be both challenging and soft at the same time. "Did he break anything?"_

_Reid shook his head, his hair unusually still. It was caked together in thick clumps with blood and sweat. "I don't know. I felt something in my back pop and I kept landing on my knee…." __And he bit my neck really hard…like a fucking zombie._

The growl left Tyler before he could contain it. He pressed a hand against Reid's chest and the blonde hissed out a painful gasp. Neither boy failed to notice how he leaned into the touch, despite the evident pain. Tyler's eyes slipped closed. He preferred it this way. He hated seeing the faces Reid made when Tyler healed him. "Broken ribs. Bruised lung. Fractured collar bone." His hand shifted, moving closer to Reid's neck, the pads of his fingers pressed gently against the skin of Reid's neck.. "Concussion." He sighed loudly, his eyes turning black beneath heavy lids. If he could, he would have blocked out the quiet gasps and pained grunts that slipped from between Reid's clenched teeth.

A second hand found his knee and Tyler silently surveyed the rest of his body. The bruising was bad, the worst it'd ever been. He lost the power before he could heal the bruises completely. Bones took the most energy and that's what he always focused on first. Because that's what mattered the most. Reid stopped him before he finished healing the bruises and cuts. A bony hand closed around his wrist and roughly shoved him away.

Glazed eyes met Reid's glare. The pale face wasn't bruised and the cut above his eye had faded considerably. "I told you all I need is --"

"The bones reset, I know," Tyler sighed. "But with all the bruising, you wouldn't have been able to sleep. Or walk without limping. Your knee was swollen and --"

"You're risking addiction," Reid interrupted sharply.

"I am not," Tyler argued half heartedly. He blinked but the exhaustion made it harder for him to open his eyes again. "I have it all under control, mother." He yawned sleepily and leaned back against the wall beside Reid. "Which reminds me, my mother thinks you're neglecting her."

Even through the exhaustion clouding his mind, Tyler knew he didn't like the smirk that distorted Reid's face. Or the way Reid licked his lips and stared off into space. "Guess I'll just have to pay her a visit…."

"Whatever," Tyler grunted, shoving himself up from Reid's bed. "Just keep that shit to yourself. Fucking pervert." He fell silent, concentrating on pulling his t-shirt off over his head and kicking off his shoes and jeans without falling over. He slipped beneath the covers and promptly fell asleep, but Reid remained awake. He knew what Tyler assumed what he did with his mother. He wished Tyler was wrong. He wished he hadn't had a relationship with his best friend's mother and he wished his friend would never walk in on that relationship. He really liked how Tyler's mother treated him, though. How she held him against her chest; her bare chest pressed against his bare back. He liked waking up beside her, their limbs entangled together, her long, curly hair, soft against his face. He liked waking up with her smell still heavy in the air. And he hated that. He hated that he needed this so badly. That he needed a thirty five year old to make him feel loved. But he refused to let her go. He refused to deny her just because she made him feel dirty at the same time. Even more, he hated how Tyler resembled his mother, the stupid quirky smiles he gave, the stupid concerned looks. He hated that sometimes, he didn't mind the resemblance between mother and son, Sometimes his nonchalance about his growing attraction didn't scare the shit out of him and that's what tore at him the most.

He needed to feel loved. What he had with Caleb wasn't love, and Reid acknowledged that. But it was affection. And sometimes affection was all he could ask for. What he had with Tyler was perfect, too perfect to touch. He didn't want to fuck it up. But his relationship with Caleb was already fucked to begin with, he could fondle it all he wanted to. He could bleed it dry. Until Caleb bled him dry. And then he'd still crawl back to him. Because at night, when he woke up in Caleb's bed, when he leaned closer to him, sometimes Caleb wrapped his arms around the blonde and just help him there -- against his chest. Sometimes, at night, Caleb could be pretty perfect too.


	5. Sticks and stones break teenage bones

_A/N: I don't often write first person. So, while proof reading this, I did notice I used two didn't tenses. The past and the present. I tried to edit it all out and just use the past, but I know I probably missed some. I apologize in advance. I try to be as grammatically correct as possible, and I still fail._

_P.S. REVIEW!_

_I'm the one that showed Matthew the paper. Another chick was murdered last night. Two females, infamous for their eccentric beliefs, murdered within the last week. I drop the paper down onto the lunch table, the front page up. They didn't show the dead body - that was something Ipswich still couldn't do - show death in the paper. But the stake was there, charred. The blood was so dark it looked black, crusted to the wood. The camera was so good you could squint and identify what remained of the melted flesh if you really wanted to. The body had already been removed, peeled away. Or what was left of it anyway. "I'm supposed to ask you for help."_

_I'd told Tyler I wouldn't. I'd refused to go running back to Matthew, even if he's smart. Even if he could help us. Tyler had explained it all to me. If this is what is happening to chicks who are believed to be witches - imagine what would happen to the real witches. I was supposed to talk to Matthew, study him, and decide whether I think he did this or not. Tyler doesn't think he did. Tyler thinks the crime scene was too dirty for a neat freak like Matthew. Tyler thinks Matthew's too physically weak to overpower and tie these chicks - and these aren't exactly skinny chicks - to stakes. Matthew also knows that I possess these 'magical powers'. He knows real magic now. Why would he kill these amateurs? I'm not convinced._

_Matthew looked at the paper and then up at me. Evidently he's already read it. Go figure. I bet he was drinking coffee at the time too. Pinky out. "What am I supposed to do?" He asked. Good question. If I'd known that, I wouldn't have gone to him, now would I?_

"_Fuck if I know." I dropped down into the chair across from him. I ignore the stares we were getting. This was the second lunch period I'd spent with Matthew. "You're supposed to find out who's doing this. Can you do that?" Genuine curiosity. Matthew was my age. If the cops couldn't find anything on this dude - how could I expect Matthew to? _

_Matthew shrugged. "I haven't tried," he said. His voice lilted with confidence. I'd never met such a confident nerd before. And I feared my voice sounded like that too. Arrogant, cocky. But not in a good way. "What do you have to fear, Reid Garwin?" I hated how he said my name. Calling someone by their first name is intimate. Weird, right? Because what else are you supposed to call them? Calling them by their last name can be both intimate and professional. But to use both names was different. It transcended relationship. It separated us. Either above or below him - I was not on the same level. I knew he meant to do that too. Verbally separate us. We weren't friends - even on a professional level. A relationship didn't exist between us. He called Tyler by his first name._

"_Addiction, possession and how I'll die," I answered. I know it isn't what he meant. His smile was tight, but curious. I answered straight forward, but it wasn't a straight-forward answer. What I'd said was still in code. I don't like how he looks at me. It isn't even with his face. Just his eyes. Like suddenly he knows I'm not just the lady magnet I really am. I hate it when people try to create layers in me. I'm not a fucking multi-layered cake, you can't just insert layers on whim. You can't insert shit in me. I wish they'd stop trying._

"_Addiction to what?" he asked first. I know he'll ask possession of what later. And how will you die? This isn't a fucking interview._

"_Anything," I answered. It was true, for the most part. Obviously if Tyler had been here, addiction would've just been a connotation of the power. But I meant it for the word, not the magic. I didn't smoke, I didn't drink. The only addiction anyone could tie me to was sex. And I'm not addicted to it. I'm seventeen. To not be horny would be weird._

"_Possession of what?" Predictable. But he accepted my answer, which meant he believed it. Good. Because I wasn't lying. I hate it when people don't believe me when I tell the truth. Lying is also another thing I'm not addicted to._

"_Anything," I repeated. Another coded word. Anything transcended what he knew. I didn't mean drugs, or ghosts, or evil, period. I don't know what I meant. But I know what happens when you're addicted to the Power. It possesses you. It becomes you. I didn't want anything else to become me - because it meant I became that thing. I became something else beyond my own desire. People hated me, but I didn't want to change. Not like that. Addiction and possession went hand in hand._

"_How will you die?" He asked. I should be a fucking psychic. No magic required. He's looking at me like maybe I should be behind plated glass, strictly there for study. Like I deserved to be looked at. Insert sexual reference here, I guess._

"_Addiction," I answered. Why am I telling him this? Because he can't do anything with the information. Sure, may be fascinating to him, but ultimately it'll mean nothing. Always give out the useless. Story of my life. "And Possession," I added. "I'll die as someone else because the addiction will destroy what's left of me. Until this dude," I tapped the paper. "Starts hunting for real. It'll be a mercy death. Addiction takes years."_

_His face has changed. Surprise, hidden beneath layers of confused curiosity. Nobody is aloud to have brains except the nerds. It doesn't seem fair. "Addiction to what?" He repeats. His question has a specific direction. Addiction to what is going to kill me? It can't be anything or everything. It's something I know will happen and won't be able to stop. How can you know you'll die addicted to something and not be able to stop it? Well, it's apart of you. You're born with it, and it starts eating at you right when you're set to enter puberty. You can't ignore it forever. It won't let you. I'm not strong enough.._

"_Me," I answered. I'd never been so coded and so blunt before in my life. "If that isn't irony, then irony doesn't exist. Are you willing to prolong my agony and help me stop this dude from killing people for being something they aren't?"_

_Matthew nodded. He still looked perplexed. I could see him - creeping up to that plated, please don't feed the animals, wall, eager to touch, to reach over just to get closer. I was that animal, and it pissed me off. I didn't mean to be interesting. I didn't want to be. "Tyler's smart too," Matthew said, still looking intrigued. His lips moved but his eyes never betrayed his words. Good thing I wasn't deaf._

"_I know," I told him. "My grades tell me so." There we go. Hopefully sarcasm will chase him away, discreetly keep him at arms length. God I hope so. I hate being crowded. "He thinks you're smart too. Which is why I'm asking for your help, and not his. He doesn't have a hard-on for you, so I can trust his opinion."_

_Matthew scoffed silently at my language. Poor boy, I'm raping his ears. And I'm loving it. First he blushes like a little school girl, then he scoffs in scorn like an uptight Christian. I don't believe in shame, of anything. Correction: of anything I can't help. I'm not ashamed of nudity, or being a witch, or how I act. Most the time I embrace it. Maybe that'll change once I'm possessed - then I wouldn't be me anymore. Maybe the person I become will be ashamed of everything. Lustful thoughts, cussing, taking a shower naked. Hell, maybe he'll even make me attend church. Wouldn't that be a bitch?_

"_Are you insinuating --"_

"_Right," I interrupted. "There's too many damn sins for humans to stumble upon, it's no wonder you suspect everyone's sinful. I'm not going to take blame for my own humanity. Or lack there of. I don't give a fuck. Get over it. And quit fucking Tyler with your eyes." Another scoff. Not only did I use 'inappropriate' language, but I accused him of being a fag, and insulted his religion. I have a bone to pick with Christianity. I can't help it. I think the religion's stupid. Funny, right? I'm a witch but I don't have a religion. For me, it's fact. I don't worship a God. There can't be a religion then, right? Nobody created me. Tyler enjoys explaining the beauty of evolution to me. He explains it so it all makes sense. He believes your beliefs should make sense - they should have explanations. And when they don't, they shouldn't just dismiss the unknown. They should embrace it. Because I'm not just dumb, all humans are. We don't know. Embrace it._

"_You're suppose to be nicer," Matthew whines. Or so I wish. He sounds absolutely stoic about it. And that annoys me. Nerds aren't supposed to be stoic. They're supposed to be nerds. When they start with the stoicism they stop with the nerdism. They throw the entire world out of whack. They're destroying life as we know it! "If you want my help, you'll stop talking to me like that. Apologize."_

_I know I blink at him. Not just in general, but at him. Just like I blow my nose at him. Quite pointedly, if I may add. It could be called gapping, but I don't want to make myself look like an idiot, so we'll stick with blinking. With a 'are you fucking serious?' look too. But he remains stoic, that bastard. So what do I do? Tyler wanted this arrogant nerd's help. Tyler reads people like a book. Cliché, right? But he reads them like he understands them. People read books - Tyler understands books. Big difference. Or so he keeps telling me. If Matthew is smart to Tyler, Matthew is smart. Like, period. If Tyler thinks we need his help, obviously we do. We have lots at stake here, too. If we're lucky Caleb won't be a bitch and fuck it up for us. He does that. Not just at times, but all the fucking time. It's supposed to show his power. I can see just fine, he doesn't have to shove it in my fucking face._

"_I'm sorry," I said. Words are words. You can't feel them. When you say them, you aren't giving them away. I can say all the shit I want and not mean it. Words are words, it's stupid to let them effect you. And it's stupid to refuse to say something just to come off as badass. I'm a very educated thug. Thank you._

_Matthew smiled. Obviously, he didn't know I was such an educated thug. He underestimates me. It hurts. "Humility," he said. Just one word. That's not even a fragment. I can spout out random words too._

"_Rational," I said. Sounded like I was contradicted him. Because I was. I'm not humble. I'm fucking awesome. But I live in a realm of reality. Fucked up, right? I'm a rational witch. Not nearly as rational as Tyler. And you know how rational I am. Tyler's just over the top. And Caleb…out of all of us, he's the least rational. Though Pogue has his moments. His rage black outs. Caleb does stuff to hurt you. Or me, more specifically. It annoys me too._

"_I've never spoken to you like this before," Matthew said. He's still smiling as he talks. It makes him look sinister, like he's telling me his evil - yet obviously illogical - plot to take over the world by destroying all humanity. Yes, lets rule dirt and gravel. Sounds fun. Who the fuck would he dominate then? You need the minions and inferior bitches. They make you great. Intelligence doesn't make you great, though. It's the willingness to act. Because rulers do some stupid shit. Because they can. I don't think Matthew can. Or so I hope. "It's almost like you're a real person, now."_

"_Really?" I asked. "Finally, I get to be a real boy." Sarcasm should be a job code._

_Matthew ignored my sarcasm. He doesn't even appreciate it. This shit isn't easy. "It's good to know you can string a couple sentences together to make a whole paragraph of thought. You shouldn't be so dismal in class, Reid. It is very unbecoming." Very vaguely, I know he's being condescending. It's too vague to bother me though. A finer point of my own stupidity. Smart people don't know that. They're too busy being offended._

"_Thanks," I said. My voice twisted, to sound like his. But in my voice. "I'll keep that in mind. In a corner of my mind I leave for all the other shit that doesn't do me any good."_

_He's still smiling, as he says, "that corner must be getting crowded. It __is _your entire brain, after all."

"Sticks and stones," I shot back. You might have called it growling. But I'm not an animal. I talk. I didn't even yell. I think I deserve a point.

"Very big of you," Matthew congratulated.

"It isn't the only thing," I said before he could continue. I winked at him, suggestive as hell.

His face twisted like he'd sucked on a lemon too long. I swear to god, you'd think he hadn't ever attended public school with the way he turns beet red every time I make a sexual reference. Well, I guess he hasn't ever attended public school. But the dude's a teenager. _He _should be making these references too. It doesn't seem right.

"I said stop," he said. His voice was firm, like he was made to give orders. It's a voice you grow. How many orders has he given? His voice had been perfected. 

"No means no," I mocked. And then I straightened. "No only means no when it's the safe word," I added, completely serious. His face turned a dark maroon color. I laughed at him, and it felt good. He fucking deserved it. He's an ass.

"Why can't you be more like Tyler?" He all but shouted at me. The eyes in the cafeteria burned me, there was so many. My laughter died abruptly, and I stiffened. I stared so hard at him it couldn't be anything but a glare. How many times had I heard that though? From Caleb, of all people. He'd shout it at me, even as he broke me. He broke _everything _of me too. I wish it was only physical. But leaders are always thorough, right? If I was lucky, he'd stay in bed with me afterward too. Holding a bruised body to his chest like it belonged there. Like he wanted it to stay. But leaders are fickle creatures. "You're fucking disgusting," he added. The cafeteria was quieting. His words carried. "I'm not helping you. You can die, for all I care." You'd think we were breaking up with how he went on about it. "It'd only help the world - to rid it of _creatures _like you. I hope you burn."

Matthew had sprang to his feet in his accusation. And I couldn't stop him. I didn't tell him to shut the fuck up. I didn't even have that urge. He wished me dead, and I said nothing. He called me a creature - inhuman, and I said nothing. And wished me to burn. Not just die, but burn. Like all witches should, right? It was the first time I realized that maybe Matthew wasn't as safe as I'd thought. Maybe I'd fooled myself into believing he was. And maybe he'd fooled Tyler. Maybe I'd been sleeping with the enemy all along and never knew it. What if I'd asked the real killer for help?

And everybody had heard him. My cheeks burned. It was my turn to blush. Something I don't do often, honest. "Hey -" I said but he cut me off again. Stupid nerd.

"Don't talk to me, Garwin," Matthew spat out. Back to last names - strictly business. AKA: deep seated hatred. Same diff, right?

"But Tyler --"

"I mean it." Matthew's voice was back to being firm. It was an order. It sounded like a hollow order to all the noisy bitches listening. But I heard the threat. It wasn't even hidden, but it isn't supposed to be. There's no point in threatening if you hide the threat, now is there? Matthew turned around and stormed out of the room.

And I just realized I'd never see him pissed before. Nerds are supposed to be pissed, right? When they're shouting, begging, demanding or whatever you to leave them alone. So why did Matthew always seem so chillaxed? Not that it bothered me, of coarse. I don't even care.

I got up, because I couldn't just sit there and finish lunch. I wasn't eating for one. And like I said - I hate people staring at me like I belong in a zoo. I'm not a fucking monkey, so fuck off, y'know? So I got up and left the room. I used a different exit. That was the last thing I needed - for random nobodies to think I stormed off in chase of Matthew fucking Clyde. 

Except I have one problem now. I still need help. But I have no one else to go to. What do I do?


	6. Crumbling Foundation

**A/N: Short chapter, I know. Please enjoy.**

**The ground was soft. It'd ran the night before but the water had dried. The mud wasn't wet but it hadn't hardened yet. The mud sank easily beneath the weight of Reid's knees. His hands grappled for a grip but his fingers kept sinking into the weak earth. He tried to crawl away.**

**His hands were completely covered in the mud, the blood completely disguised, but not quite forgotten. His head still throbbed. The blood still flowed in thick rivulets. It obscured his vision and he dragged the back of his arm across his eyes to clear it. To smear away the blood. Even without the blood his vision was blurry.**

**It was the drugs. Something had been pumped into his body - and it was fucking every up. His movements were heavy, even as he dragged himself across the yard. And he kept reaching and coming up empty. Something was missing and for the life of him, he couldn't quite remember what.**

"**Scary, isn't it? Being human."**

**Reid woke with a gasp. He woke with a throbbing headache and the remnants of his dream. How real that pain had felt. Even in the back of the dream, he'd known things that he hadn't seen. He'd known one thing in specific - it had been a stake, forced into the weak earth. The earth was too weak to hold his weight on a stake, but he hadn't been spared. No. The killer had wanted to do something more. More dangerous. More meaningful. A bigger death.**

**And that voice. That voice had been female.**

"**It's about time."**

**Reid jumped. He'd been too caught up in his sluggish eureka moment to notice that he wasn't alone. Reid's head snapped in the general direction of the voice. It was Caleb. But he was too shocked to respond appropriately. His dream had unnerved him. It had felt real. And why shouldn't it? He had felt the mud peel away beneath his bitten nails. He had felt the blood trail down his face, no longer warm when it reached his neck. His body had been so cold, it was numb, weak and trembling.**

"**What are you doing here, Caleb?" It came out as a sigh. A completely serious sigh. Very unReidlike. No, Reid acted like he was supposed to because he didn't want to deal with people acting concerned over this sudden chance in his demeanor.**

**Caleb crossed the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, and Reid moved to sit up but Caleb stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Don't move," he said. Reid obeyed. Caleb's hand moved from his chest, to his forehead and Reid relaxed even further beneath the warmth of Caleb's hand. And the absence of pain. "You okay?" Caleb asked. "Your head's kind of hot."**

**Reid blinked up at Caleb. Waking from the nightmare had forced him awake, and he didn't feel drowsy. "I'm fine," he said. He spoke tentatively, as if he were trying to preserve an illusion. Was Caleb really concerned, or just acting? How long would the act last?**

**Caleb's hand moved from Reid's forehead to his cheek. His hand cupped Reid's cheek without stroking it. Reid still tilted his head into the touch. He realized how very eager he was for this rare affection. "Sarah broke up with me today," Caleb said.**

"**What?" Reid mumbled. Sarah and Caleb's fights usually led to a much rougher Caleb. But Caleb was soft today, so very soft. Surely the elder boy should be upset even more than usual - outraged, brutal. "I'm sorry," he added quickly. His fingers were growing sore, as he desperately clung to that fading illusion.**

**Caleb shrugged. "She said she doesn't like what I've become. It isn't the power - it's me, that's what she said. She was unhappy with **_**me**_**." Caleb's voice remained soft, steady but unbearably soft. If only Sarah knew just how bad Caleb could get. The bitch had been lucky…if only she knew.**

**Reid didn't try to sit up again. He lifted an arm, curled a hand around the back of Caleb's neck and pulled him down. Caleb went easily. Caleb buried a face in Reid's neck and shuddered against the younger boy. It took Reid several minutes to realize that Caleb was crying.**

**Time seemed to pass so slowly that Reid missed it altogether. Some time during the day, he managed to coax Caleb to lie down beside him, beneath the blanket. Caleb kicked off his shoes, but didn't pull himself far enough away from Reid to do anything else. He curled up beneath the blanket, his whole body curled to Reid. He held - latched - onto Reid, but it was different. There would be no bruises left tonight.**

**Reid fell back asleep hours after Caleb had, stroking and combing through Caleb's hair. Caleb's cheeks had turned red, beneath the unwanted tears, and his face had remained hidden - against Reid's neck and shoulder. In Caleb's sleep, Reid could see the tear tracks. Caleb was unwanted by the girl he'd devoted himself to. So he'd ran to the only person he could - the boy he tortured. It was this boy that took him in without prompt and gave him comfort. **


	7. Pillar of support

A/N: My muse is a dick. This is a bit like a drabble. I was listening to Blue October and…wrote, I guess. No action. But this is in Tyler's POV. And Awayforlunch -- this does give a greater look on how Tyler sees Reid. And Caleb. Please review. I so desperately need it, it's not even funny…

I found Reid and Caleb sleeping together again. I don't mean sex. No, I've never walked in on Reid with another guy. In the middle of the act. There's always a morning after I'm unaware of, and stumble right into this huge moment I know nothing about. Like walking on fragile, shattered glass. I crush the glass into the ground, but it cuts up my feet all the same. Seeing them like that's just as bad as sex. But they don't know it. They hide sex, but they never hide the morning after.

There's something about seeing Reid sleeping like that. Peaceful, with that stupid, dopey smile on his face. A smile I never see when he's awake. How so very happy he looks in this moment of unconscious euphoria. He finally possesses a happiness we all know cannot exist, not really. Not for us - in this reality. Only in dreams are the men who break you equal to the white knights.

Our fearless leader looks different unconscious too. He doesn't know it. I wonder if he can feel his mask slipping, even while he sleeps. Does he subconsciously jerk, like you do when you feel like you're falling? Only to wake up and find yourself in the middle of your bed, where you left yourself… His mask dissolves in his sleep. I wonder if he has to take the time in the morning to reconstruct it from scratch. Does it get harder every day? Or easier, as all things should - with time. Does he remember each piece he pastes together? Does he end up just going through the motions in the end, always producing the same out-dated but immortal mask? Forgetting how wretched it's become, because he's not looking anymore…

He's curled into Reid's embrace like a child. Not just the normal, needy child, either. Reid, who acts too much like the beaten dog Caleb treats him like, manages to warm this cold, shivering - dying child. But what of the warmth Reid loses? Does Caleb care? Does he realize that this warmth - this too often taken for granted warmth could be all Reid possesses? And without it, Reid is likely to freeze to death. And Reid knows it, but he still gives. And he stands there, like a loss child, and watches Caleb abuse that warmth - that gift - and then discard it, only to ask for more.

Caleb can't see all that. He can't know that when he goes around breaking what he wants to, he leaves those behind to pick up all these broken - shattered - pieces and figure out how to glue them all back together. He can't know that we loose so many pieces in our struggles. If he did, then why would he keep doing this? Is he so selfish that he'd deny Reid, but make it impossible for Reid to find - to have - anyone else?

Reid moves in his sleep. Even while unconscious, he's restless. He moves in his sleep, burrowing further against Caleb. I'm sure they had a moment last night. That moment, like all time, has been lost, and yet he's clinging to it. They both are, with bloody, peeling fingernails.

I cross the room, just as I'd intended to do. On a post-it note, I write 'Went to Matt's. Be back at five.' Bad idea? Probably. Reid doesn't trust Matthew. I don't think I do either. Surely there's other people we could ask for help. But Matthew is the only one who'll understand why. Who will understand our need for this. To stop these murders. It isn't guilt, or sorrow. We didn't know these people. But there are murders, and they need to be stopped. Black and white conclusion.

I lean over the side of the bed, and gently press the post-it note to Caleb's forehead. I'm sure it's the first thing Reid will see. The first thing he'll bother to look at. Will Caleb see the…love, I guess, in his eyes? Or will that mask Caleb clings to block it all out. Is it like looking through a pair of goggles, or sunglasses? Is everything dimmer for Caleb? Is that why he treats Reid like that, because he can't really see anything?

Does it matter? - his reasons. His excuses. The glass, the bits and pieces of Reid's shattered being, are still on the floor. Caleb still stomps over each piece relentlessly. The bruises, and scars, cuts too deep for us to heal - they still color Reid's body, in their attempt to mirror how he feels inside. How battered his soul has become. How scarred. When they fade, Caleb is quick to remind him., as if he could ever forget. So that every time Reid looks in the mirror, he sees himself for exactly who he thinks he is - who Caleb reminds him to be. It's too pristine to be accidental.

And what do I do? Nothing. I cannot exist when all he sees is Caleb. I fade into the background, and do nothing.


End file.
